


matcha cookie monstrosity

by antikytheras



Series: lukewarm coffee [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack, Gen, M/M, Viktor is an idiot, chris is the cupid friend, this is just me practicing writing don't mind me, yuuri is a different kind of idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antikytheras/pseuds/antikytheras
Summary: Pretty Eyes pulls out an entire can of Monster Energy. ‘Could I get four shots of espresso, two pumps of matcha syrup, and this entire can.’‘…Are you sure you want that, sir.’Pretty Eyes frowns. ‘Hmm, you’re right. Could you blend in one of those too?’ He points at their display of cookies. Each cookie is about the same size as Yuuri’s face.Okay, this is all too much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't edit this (shrugs

Yuuri’s quite fond of coffee.

It’s the only thing keeping him alive in university. In his sleep-deprived state, it’s the diesel to his overworked engine. He doesn’t remember the last time he had six whole hours of sleep. In fact, he considers himself lucky if he gets five.

That’s why it had seemed only natural when he landed himself a part-time job at a tiny café just down the road from the university. He had been a loyal customer of _contre la montre_ ever since he’d camped out in it during a heavy rainstorm, so the transition from paying for his coffee to being paid to serve people coffee felt a little inevitable.

It’s raining again today, and it’s most definitely _not_ one of those gentle spring showers the weather forecast had promised. He’s drenched from head to toe despite the black umbrella in his hands, thanks to the wind whipping his hair into his eyes. He can barely see anything as it is, what with the rain droplets clinging to his glasses.

When he finally gets his hands on the café’s door handle, the wind slams it out of his grasp before he can even properly push it open. It crashes against the wall with a bang.

Before he can even apologise, his co-worker is already in the entryway, pulling him in. Already, a puddle is forming beneath Yuuri’s feet.

Chris grabs hold of the door and braces against the wind, pushing it shut with a grunt. Satisfied, he sighs contentedly and leans against the closed door, closing his eyes. He looks tired. Then again, they’re all suffering together in university, so Yuuri probably looks like that too.

Again, Yuuri tries to open his mouth to apologise, but Chris is already waving it away. ‘Don’t worry about it, yours is the third time this has happened today. Stay there, I’ll get you a towel.’

‘Thanks,’ Yuuri says, relieved. While Chris retreats behind the counter, Yuuri closes his umbrella and puts it aside. There aren’t many customers today, so even with the homey effect of _contre la montre_ ’s warm, dark wood furnishing, the café looks a lot bigger than usual.

A dishcloth is shoved in his face. ‘Here, this is the best I could come up with,’ Chris says apologetically.

‘It’s more than enough,’ Yuuri objects.

Chris smiles. It’s one of his devious, dangerous smiles. ‘No need to thank me,’ he assures Yuuri, eyeing him appreciatively.

Suddenly, Yuuri’s hyper-aware of the way his sopping wet clothes cling to every curve and line of his body. He tries to dry himself off, but there’s no way the small dishcloth can get rid of all the rainwater.

‘You can use the hand dryer in the bathroom,’ Chris suggests helpfully. Evidently, someone has had his fill.

Yuuri snorts, tossing his wet bag at his dry co-worker as he walks past him to get into the bathroom. He dries himself off as much as he can, but no matter how dry he feels, his jeans still stubbornly cling to the curves of his ass.

‘I give up,’ he grumbles, skulking out.

On his way out, he takes a better look at the aftermath of the storm. There’s definitely a puddle at the door, but Chris is already there with a mop in his hands. He looks surprisingly domestic. Their work attire is just a brown apron over whatever they’re wearing at the time, and the look suits Chris oddly well.

There are two customers taking shelter from the storm in the café, and both are already settled comfortably, MacBooks open and coffee cups on the table. Neither have looked up from their laptops, not even Yuuri’s loud and grand entrance.

Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief.

Chris calls out when he sees Yuuri re-emerge. ‘I’m gonna clean this up.’

‘Alright, I’ll get behind the counter, then.’ Yuuri throws the apron on, and in seconds, that’s clinging to his skin too.

The storm isn’t showing any sign of letting up. It’s highly unlikely that anyone would turn up in this awful—

The door slams open for the fourth time that day.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Chris sighs, pulling the customer in and slamming the door shut once more. It sounds like he’s talking to someone he knows. ‘Why would you come out in this?’

‘I wanted a change of scenery,’ the customer whines. Yuuri guesses that it’s Chris’s friend.

Chris scoffs. ‘Sure you did.’ He turns away and goes back to crouching on the floor, soaking up the new puddle with a cloth. ‘I know what you came for. Go get it at the counter.’

The customer turns, and Yuuri takes his first proper look at the guy. He looks kind of familiar. He’s got pretty blue eyes, and his silver hair looks as messy as a bird’s nest. It’s probably thanks to that awful wind outside.

Pretty Eyes combs a hair through his hair, fixing it as he walks up to the counter. He’s wearing all black, a v-neck shirt and a basic pair of long pants. They’re clinging to his frame like a second skin.

Yuuri frowns, trying to match a name to the face. Before he can even think of a single name, Pretty Eyes is in front of him.

‘Hi, what can I get for you?’ The words automatically fly out of his mouth.

Pretty Eyes looks up at the menu, two large chalkboards hung high against the wall behind the barista’s counter.

‘What’s your favourite syrup?’

Yuuri freezes. ‘Sorry, come again?’

Pretty Eyes leans against the counter, smiling. ‘I asked what your favourite syrup is.’

‘Oh. Um.’ This is not what he had been expecting. ‘I like the matcha.’

‘Ooh, matcha. Haven’t tried that one yet.’ Pretty Eyes is rummaging through his bag as he speaks. The itch of recognition is stabbing at Yuuri’s mind, but he can’t quite put his finger on it just yet.

It gets swept away in another wave of shock when Pretty Eyes produces a can of Monster Energy. ‘Could I get four shots of espresso, two pumps of matcha syrup, and this entire can.’

‘…Are you sure you want that, sir.’

Pretty Eyes frowns. ‘Hmm, you’re right. Could you blend in one of those too?’ He points at their display of cookies. Each cookie is about the same size as Yuuri’s face.

Okay, this is all too much. ‘I— I don’t think— I mean, um, which flavour?’ Yuuri stutters.

‘Chocolate chip.’ At least it wasn’t double chocolate. The fact that that’s a consolation seriously worries Yuuri.

‘Coming right up.’ He picks up the can and almost drops it on the counter when his fingers brush against warm hands.

Hastily, Yuuri turns away, reaching for the bag of beans above the coffee machine. He can feel his shirt riding up slowly, dragging against his skin. For now, he ignores it. He can fix it later.

He hears Chris wryly remark, ‘Enjoying the view?’

Yuuri tugs his shirt back down.

While he prepares the monstrosity, he hears every word of their whispered conversation.

‘Stop it,’ Pretty Eyes hisses.

‘I’m just saying.’ Yuuri can imagine the fake angelic smile on Chris’s sin-filled face. ‘Don’t give yourself a heart attack just to get the cute barista’s number.’

He can imagine Pretty Eyes glaring at Chris. ‘Whose fault is it that I had to do this?’

‘I didn’t think you’d come out in the rain.’ Chris laughs. ‘He takes a shift every day. You could’ve waited like, eighteen hours.’

Yuuri wonders if they realise that the café is rather quiet.

He turns back to grab the giant cookie and realises that Pretty Eyes has crossed back to Chris’s side. This time, he can’t hear their conversation. He’s not sure if he feels relieved or disappointed.

He decants the concoction into a large cup and puts the lid on, making doubly sure it’s secure. Ants would probably immediately descend on that sugary monstrosity.

‘What’s your name?’ Yuuri asks, and Pretty Eyes is back at the counter in a flash.

‘Viktor Nikiforov.’

Yuuri drops the cup.

‘Oh—I got it, don’t worry.’ Viktor catches the cup easily. Not a single droplet of diabetes comes out. For a moment, Yuuri feels proud, then he remembers the situation he’s in.

‘You’re in my classes,’ he says dumbly. ‘I see you everyday.’

Viktor’s eyebrows are drawn together in mild confusion. ‘Yeah. Same. I mean, I see you everyday too.’

Yuuri wants to laugh and cry at the same time.

Chris picks himself off the floor and tosses the cloth into the pail, a satisfied expression on his face. ‘Finally! I’m done.’

Yuuri’s glad to have someone else to look at, breaking the awkward tension that’s settled between him and the guy he’s had a huge crush on forever.

Viktor turns back to glare at Chris. ‘Explain yourself.’

The culprit sidles over to the counter with a smirk. ‘Oh, you know how it is. Your co-worker gushes about this hot guy in his classes and your roommate’s forever sighing about some cute Japanese kid. Even an idiot like me could put two and two together to make… well, you two.’

Yuuri’s had to deal with too much shock for one day, so he doesn’t really think when he rounds on Chris and demands, ‘Does he actually drink this stuff?’

Chris’s teasing façade drops. He actually kind of looks stressed when he massages his temples. ‘Yes. Just. Usually without the matcha. And the giant cookie.’

‘How are you not dead?’ Yuuri yells. It’s too much, he can’t take this.

Viktor doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. ‘What about you? You drink four coffees a day!’

Chris whistles as he retreats to the back, the pail swinging in his hands. He’s back in tease mode. ‘I’ll leave you two to it, then. Don’t get all nasty over my clean floor. Wouldn’t want a health violation, now would we?’

‘ _Chris!_ ’

‘Aw, you’re even synchronised when you’re screaming my name.’

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/_antikytheras)
> 
>  
> 
> [warm-up hogwash](https://archiveofourown.org/series/607273) (hp!au)


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